Darkness of the Law
by Mythicalnightguard
Summary: All the young Italian immigrant Octavius Caesar wants is to become a lawyer. But with no job openings available, he is forced to head West and look for a source of money to support his family back home. He becomes the Deputy of Sheriff Jedediah Smith- a curious man who is hiding a dark secret. In the little town of Drybone Pass, everyone has a skeleton in their closet. R&R AU
1. Welcome to Dry Bone

This was not what he was hoping for. Not even close. Cramped on a rocking, loud, crowded train, in the middle of the Western part of the United States of America was not the place a young Italian lad wanted to find himself. The train was not like the ones he was used to riding in his hometown of Velletri, where the rail lines were clean and carefully tended, and the railcars were classy and spacious. Here it was the exact opposite. The railcar he rode in was cramped and consisted of only a red strip of carpet on the floor and stiff seats. The tracks looked like they had not been tended to in years, and apparently, there was a 'no open window' policy, which prevented him from getting even a breath of fresh air.

Yes, the young Octavius Caesar was having a dreadful time aboard the American railroad. He had not expected to find himself here. He was supposed to be in the city, studying law and constructing court cases. His mother had spent a fortune for him to sail to America, and an even greater sum for him to attend an American university. He had finished his studies at the top of his class and should have easily gotten a job. But instead, as fate would have it, there were no job openings for lawyers. So, he had been forced to travel west in the hopes of finding something, anything, that would accept his new degree.

He had heard a lot about the American West while in the city. It was a land full of riches and wonders, or so, he had been told. Men and women would travel for miles just to find gold or open up businesses on the frontier or engage in trade with the natives of the continent, or just to seek adventure. Farmers, soldiers, miners, explorers, everyone was heading west.

And where there were people, there was bound to be a need for law and order. That was what Octavius hoped to find. A new settlement should have plenty of openings for a law student.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the wooden seat. It was hopeless, he knew. It had been his last ditch attempt at making money. Not for himself, no- but for his family back home. They had spent so much money in the hopes that he would earn more, and then some. That had been his plan- to send the money back home. But he knew he would make very little in the West. But he could not just give up.

As he thought bitterly about his situation, he vaguely felt the train grind to halt. He glanced up and out the window, his eyes landing on a small wooden structure on the side of the tracks. There was a jagged looking wooden sign hanging from the edge of the roof, with faded red letters painted on the side facing the tracks. _Welcome to Dry Bone Pass._

"Drybone Pass," He muttered to himself, frowning.

It sounded like a miserable place to be, but it was his stop. He stood up, knocking his head beneath the wooden shelf that held his bags. He winced, and rubbed his head, scowling up at the shelf. He grabbed his two plaid bags and turned to exit his seat. The woman who had been sitting beside him, he noticed, was sound asleep. A plump woman, it would be very difficult for him to climb over her. So, he nudged his shoulder.

"Excuse me, ma'am," He began politely. "This is my stop."

The woman stirred, mumbling something incoherently and swatting Octavius' hand away. He huffed in frustration.

"Ma'am, I must get around you." He persisted.

The woman did not answer. Two whistles came from the steam engine, warning of the fact that it would soon be moving again. If he did not move fast, he would miss his stop. He sighed, and reached across the woman to set his bags down on the floor. He had meant no harm or disrespect, but the woman sitting across the aisle from him thought he did. She let out a piercing screech, which woke up the woman whom Octavius was awkwardly bent over. He opened his mouth to explain himself but was clobbered on the head by her heavy purse. She stood, climbing onto her seat while she and the other woman took swings at him.

Scrambling on his stomach, Octavius grabbed his bags and tried to reach the open railcar door. He had just made it to the very edge and was about to stand when he was grabbed by a large man in a conductor's uniform. The man tugged his to his feet, holding him by the collar of his shirt.

"You messin' with these women, you rapscallion?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

Octavius gulped nervously. "N-No, sir. You see, I was trying to get myself and my bags to the door and- oompf!"

He landed on the dusty ground, missing the wooden platform. He spat out a mouthful of dirt and stared up at the man. The conductor glared down at him, smiling smugly as the train began to move away.

"W-Wait!" Octavius yelled, scrambling to his feet. "My bags!"

He watched as his bags were thrown out of the train car, one of them hitting the ground and sending carefully organized papers all over the tracks.

He gasped. "My papers!"

He tried to collect them all, but the wind stirred up by the train moving away spread them all over the area. There was no way he could gather them all back up. With a sigh, he knelt down and began picking up the papers, scowling and muttering to himself angrily as he heard the train whistle in the distance.

"Well howdy, there neighbor!"

Octavius looked up to see a short, older looking man in spectacles and a suit. The man was grinning like a fool, and he had his hand extended in greeting. Octavius looked at his hand, then casually shook it, rising to his feet.

"Hello," He replied cautiously.

The man's smile widened. "Don't reckon I've seen you around here. You new in town?"

Octavius nodded. "I am, sir. Um, could you-"

"Please, please." The man said, interrupting him. "Call me Cripson."

"Oh...okay." Octavius cleared his throat and started again. "Cripson, sir, do you know of any places to stay here?"

Cripson laughed a hearty laugh, and with great mirth. "Of course I do! I own a nice little inn myself just down the road. Need a room?"

Octavius looked up at the sky, which was becoming dark. It would be night soon, a time when bandits and wild creatures came out and stalked the streets. He shivered. Those were the types of things that his mother had warned him about before he left on the voyage across the sea.

He nodded quickly. "Yes; I am in desperate need of a room. Do you have one you can spare me?"

Cripson nodded. "Yup, I do. Three bucks a night."

Octavius' heart almost stopped. "Th-Three dollars a night!? That is unheard of!"

Cripson shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. "Welcome to Drybone Pass, kid. Where ain't nothin' cheap and everyone's got a skeleton in their closet." He burst out laughing at his own joke.

Octavius sighed and looked from the sky to his bags, and then to Cripson. He realized he had no other choice but to accept the offer of a room. Even if the price was outrageous. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of cash. Carefully counting three bills, he handed them over to Cripson, who took them eagerly. He grinned.

"If you'll follow me, I'll give you a nice little tour and take you to your room." Cripson picked up one fo the two bags and began to walk into town before Octavius could stop him.

He followed reluctantly, holding his other bag tight. The town was small, and judging by the amount of people he saw, it held just a few more than a hundred people. Most of the buildings were made of wooden logs and planks, although a few, like the large building which was obviously the town bank, were made of stone.

"That there's the main well," Cripson explained, pointing at a large well off to the side. "And over there's Mason's Ranch, and then we got a saloon there, some houses here, and a general store there…"

Octavius nodded blankly but was not really listening to the innkeeper's information. He did not really care at the moment where things were, or even what things were. He could learn it all in the morning. At the moment, all he wanted was a nice, quiet room, a warm bath, and a soft bed to sleep in.

As the thought of sleep settled over his mind, he let himself slip into the warm embrace of exhaustion, until he stumbled into a pothole in the ground. He yelped, and just managed to regain his footing. Cripson looked at him for a moment, then burst out into his throaty cackle.

"So you're a clumsy one, then?" He asked, slapping Octavius' back.

Octavius winced. "No…"

In his mind, he cursed the innkeeper a thousand times over. He was not yet certain of the man, who seemed hospitable, but rude at the same time. A part of him thought that it might not be wise to stay with him.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Cripson grabbed his arm and dragged him to the side of the road, out of the way of a rushing horse. Octavius gave an undignified screech and toppled onto his tush. The horse skidded to a halt, rearing on its hind legs and whinnying. The man atop the horse, silhouetted against the waning light of the setting sun, pulled the reigns tight to steady the beast. It was hard to see his features, but the Stetson on his head showed that he was a true man of the West.

"Easy there, Dakota." The man said, patting the horse's' muzzle. He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the young man in front of him. "Cripson, who's this newcomer?" He asked.

Cripson thought for a moment, then looked at Octavius. "That's a good question….who are you, boy?"

Octavius gulped nervously. "I-I am Octavius Caesar, sir."

"Octavius Caesar?" The man repeated Octavius' name aloud. "Ya ain't from 'round 'ere, are ya? Ya come from the North, I'm guissin'. N'York, N'England, Maine?"

"No, sir," Octavius said, shaking his head quickly. "I am from Italy."

The man sniffed. "An' what're ya doin' 'ere?"

"Well, sir, I am looking for a job," Octavius answered truthfully. "I need a job so I can send money back to my family. I specialize in the law."

The man scratched his chin. "That law?"

Octavius nodded. "Oh yes, sir. I spent four years at Hamilton College studying law. I was supposed to become a lawyer but there were no job openings. So, I came here."

The man was silent for a moment, before speaking again in a measured tone. "You wanna be a lawman, boy?"

Octavius hesitated. "A-A lawman, sir?"

"That's right," The man nodded. "You wanna be one?"

"Is...that like a lawyer?" Octavius asked, shuffling his feet uncertainly. "Because if it is, I can do that."

"Kinda," The man replied. "Tell ya what; you come an' see me in the mornin', and I'll give ya the skinny of the job. Ya got that?"

Octavius nodded rapidly, unable to hid the relief in his voice. He had a chance to redeem himself. "Yes, sir. But...where?"

"At the jail." The man replied. "Jus' ask for Jedediah Smith."

Without even waiting to see if Octavius would answer, the man veered his horse back around and galloped down the road. Octavius watched him go, wondering to himself about what the job could possibly be. Maybe he would be sorting papers, or he might even become a judge. That would be interesting. What a stroke of luck he had been given.

Cripson chuckled. "Well, you've met the Sheriff, now all you need to do is get settled in."

Octavius blinked, turning to face Cripson. "That was the Sheriff?" He asked in surprise.

Cripson nodded. "Of course it is! Who else would he be? Now come on, boy- I ain't waitin' out here any longer. You want that room or not?"

Octavius hurriedly followed after Cripson, wondering what sort of job he would find himself doing tomorrow.


	2. The First Morning

Octavius yawned in consciousness, stretching his arms above his head until his fingers touched the wooden backboard of his bed. Surprisingly, despite the fact that the mattress was harder than his bed at home, he had slept quite well. He had not been expecting a full night's sleep, especially after the harrowing train ride the day before.

As he lie awake now in his bed, he listened to the sounds of the town. People milling to and fro, on errands or to visit others. Out his window, women were fetching buckets of water, while children played in the dust. Men were wrangling their horses, one man falling from his saddle, apparently still drunk from the night before.

Despite the obvious differences in culture, the scene was not unlike what he might see in Italy early in the morning. He recalled for a moment his mother, leaving the family home to walk to the well in the center of the village, while his younger siblings played in the garden or ran in the donkey pasture. For a moment, he almost felt as if he was at home- safe.

A gunshot ringing out and a horse whinnying broke that connection. Octavius leapt from his bed, fumbling for his boots. Being the Deputy now, he figured that he would have to be ready for anything- even in the early hours of the morning. He grabbed his hat and threw on his overshirt, pausing only briefly to look at himself in the mirror. Not bad, he had to admit. America looked good on him.

Running for the door, Octavius left his room at the inn and ran down the steps two at a time. Across the way, he spotted the Sheriff Jedediah, whom he had met the night before, taking cover behind a wagon as another bullet whizzed past his head. For a moment, Octavius was too shocked to move. He had never seen a real gunfight before- he did not even know how to shoot a gun- he did not even have a gun on him.

How was he supposed to help the Sheriff?

Octavius stood back and watched in awe as Jedediah reloaded his handgun. He lifted his head just a little over the wagon and fired- hitting a man right in the chest. He fell from the window and into a stack of hay bales. Moving swiftly, the Sheriff ran to the cover of those same hay bales, aiming at a second man leaning out of the window. He shot him too.

Octavius noticed a third man sneaking up behind the Sheriff. He went to yell out, but Jedediah had already detected the threat. Faster than anything Octavius had ever seen, the man turned on a dime and shot the third man, dropping him like a stone.

Not a soul in the square spoke, all eyes turned to the Sheriff. He took a deep breath and returned his pistol to its place at his side. The townspeople erupted in a swarm of applause, and Octavius found himself joining in, still trying to piece together what he had just seen.

The Sheriff's eyes landed on him, making him snap to attention.

"That's what it's like bein' a lawman," Jedediah explained in an even tone. "Think ya can handle that, boy?"

Octavius fumbled for the right word. "Y-Yes, sir- I-I can do it." He stammered, puffing out his chest.

Jedediah smirked. "Sure yah can, kid. We'll see. First thin's first; we gotta get yah checked out."

The smile on Octavius' face turned to a look of confusion. "Checked out?"

Jed nodded. "That's right. Yah wanna be my Deputy, you gotta show me what yer made of."

Without any further clues, Jed turned on his heel and gestured for the young Italian to follow. If he were to be honest with himself, he did not think he could handle the rigors of a lawman's life at all. What he had just seen Jed do was...amazing. It must have taken him ages to hone gun skills like that. And, if what Cripson the innkeeper had said the night before was true, then there would be plenty of men about, who would love to put a bullet in his head.

As if reading the young man's mind, Jed glanced at him from beneath the rim of his hat, smirking. "It ain't all that bad," He drawled, encouraging him to keep pace. He completely ignored the coroner calling to him from the bodies of the dead men, yelling something about not being paid enough to clean up after him. "The way I see it, yer as good as dead either way- might as well go out shootin', eh?"

Octavius had absolutely no idea what any of that was supposed to mean, but he nodded anyways. "If you say so, sir."

"I do. Ah, here we are,"

Jed led the newby into a small wooden building , complete with a sandy floor, a desk, and a cactus in a pot. Half of the room was strung with wanted posters and maps and charts, while the other was sectioned off with metal bars.

"That's where we keep the bad ones," Jed explained, following his eyes. "We're always happy ta give 'em a room here."

He was not sure, but Octavius thought he heard sarcasm in the Sheriff's voice. "Seems like a...nice little place."

Jed laughed, taking out the stool shoved under his wooden desk and plopping down on top of it. "I guess yah could say that. Jus' wait until we're filled up, though. Then ba boys don' shut up."

I can not say I blame them, Octavius thought to himself, imagining being a prisoner in that tiny cell. "How often do we get prisoners?"

The corner of Jed's mouth lifted, and he leaned back in his stool. "Now hold up, pardner- there ain' no we here- there's only me and you, yah got that?"

Octavius winced, quickly put back into his place. Maybe his best bet was to just stay silent.

"Nah, until yah prover yerself, yah ain't no pardner of mine. Jus' a deputy like the rest."

Octavius frowned. "The...rest, sir?"

Jed sighed, a long, drawn-out noise. "You ain't the first deputy I've had, kid. An' I've learned not ta get too attached. So, ta keep it simple- it's me an' you- not us."

Perplexed, Octavius tried to understand what these ramblings meant. Had he been accepted as the new deputy, or put down, or…?

"Anyways," Jed set his hat on the desk, grinning. "I'll need your proof of citizenship."

Octavius started. Had he been given a certificate? He patted his pockets, breathing a sigh of relief as he found the crumbled up paper.

"Why do you need that, sir?" He asked.

Jed looked it over, his eyes scanning the federal seal. "Well, we get a lotta shady characters round here, an' although yah don't look all that threatenin', yah can never be too sure." He glanced up from the paper. "Remember that, kid. It'll save yer life one day."

"Never underestimate your enemy. Got it." Octavius managed a smile.

Jed returned the smile, handing him back the paper. "Well, yer legit. Now. Yer gonna wanna check yer health...any ailments?"

"Uhm…" Octavius thought to himself, tapping his chin. "Allergies."

"To?" Jed frowned, leaning across his desk. "Don't say horses."

"Horses?" Octavius pulled a confused face. "That's ridiculous."

Jed raised his hands in defence. "It happens, believe me. I had a pardner once, sneezed e'rey time he mounted one."

The story was odd, to say the least, but Octavius had hear stranger things. "If you need to know, sir, I am allergic to cats."

"Eh, we don't face many cats, so you'll be fine." Jed chuckled, seemingly amused at his own joke.

Octavius forced a grin. These Americans were a VERY odd indeed.

"So...when do I begin?" Octavius asked.

"Tomorrow," Jed nodded at the sky, which was just beginning to lighten fully. "I'll give yah time ta get use to the place."

Despite his uncertainties of the position, Octavius was rather disappointed at having to wait. "Why not today, sir? I think I can do it-"

Jed's gaze darkened, and he glared at the young man. "We start tomorrow," He repeated, his tone strained. "An', jus' so yah know...I don't like questions about my decisions, yah got that? I'm the Sheriff here- not you."

Octavius found himself taking a step back,from the American. "Y-Yes, sir."

Jed's eyes softened, and he smiled. "That's better. Git' outta here, boy. I've got work ta do."

Octavius knew better than to stay. It was best that he left now, while he had the chance. If he stayed any longer, he might lose this new job.

Taking his leave, Octavius turned and left the jailhouse. Out in the morning light, the chaos from earlier was beginning to settle down. The bodies had long since been removed from the town center, although blood stains were still visible in the sand.

People milled all about the town, going about their business like they normally did. On the left of the single road were houses- small, lean, wooden structures, that housed families ranging from two to seventeen people. On the right of the road were buildings like saloons, a bank, trading posts, and doctor's shack.

Curious, and with plenty of time to kill, Octavius sauntered over to the trading post. Although he did not have enough money to spend on anything- and had no interest in buying anything, anyways- he pushed through the single wooden door and into the shop.

Inside, it was surprisingly quiet. It made sense; the population was quite small, and very few people would visit the general store in the morning. At least, normal people would not.

There were some, however, who milled about, picking wheat, sugar, and coffee from,the shelves.

Drawn to the options- the display of candies, on the purchase counter, in particular- he failed to notice the woman standing nearby, watching him curiously.

Octavius' eyes landed on a small, wrapped piece of caramel. His mouth watered. He had not tasted caramel since he was home, and his mother had made it. She would make caramel all the time. And he would sneak it, all the time.

He remembered the days in his youth, waking up in the middle of the night, tiptoeing down the stairs to the kitchen, slipping open the candy jar, popping bits of caramel into his mouth….

"Howdy!"

Octavius jumped, knocking into the counter and nearly falling over. He got his bearings and spotted the woman who had spoken to him- a tall woman with short, slightly curled red hair and a cheery, mischievous smile.

Blushing at his surprised demeanour, Octavius was keenly aware of the looks cast in his direction by the other shoppers. The woman beamed at him, clasping her hands behind her back.

"You alright there?" The woman asked, smirking at him.

Octavius hesitated. "I...I am fine...thanks…"

The woman grinned at him, extending her hand in greeting. "The name's Amelia. Amelia Earhart. Heard of me?"

Octavius frowned, pursing his lips as he racked his brain for a memory of this woman. "I...do not believe so...am I supposed to know you…?"

The woman, Amelia, shrugged. "I don't know. I thought you would have. I've got a reputation in this town, you know."

"You...do?"

Amelia nodded, smiling. "Oh yes. I'm a pilot."

Octavius frowned. "A...what…?"

"A pilot." Amelia put her hands on her hips, sticking her chin in the air. "I've built a flying,machine- well, a small one. But one day, it'll be big enough to- to lift a whole person!"

Octavius stared at the woman. A flying...what?

There are a lot of weird souls here…

These Americans just kept getting weirder and weirder.

"Amelia?" Came a man's voice from the back of the shop.

Octavius leaned to the side, spotting a man in a nice looking suit walking toward them. He seemed pretty well dressed for a man in this town. Too well dressed to be just another towns person.

Amelia beamed at him, clapping her hands together. "Ah, Mr. Daley!"

The pair embraced. It was then Octavius' eyes fell to the thin, golden band on her ring finger. Now it made sense; at least, it made sense who this man was to her.

The man, Mr. Daley, turned to him- studying him. He looked him up and down, for a moment seeming to size him up. Likely because he had been talking to his girl.

"Hello there," Mr. Daley said, extending his hand in a friendly gesture. "I'm Mr. Daley. But you can call me Larry."

Octavius shook his hand in return, rather unsettled. This man had a commanding presence about him; something that was not normal for a man.

"Octavius. Caesar. Octavius Caesar."

"Hm." Larry smiled at him. "Welcome to America, Octavius. I'm guessing you're from Italy?"

Octavius nodded, a part of him relieved that there was a soul among this wasteland that knew of his homeland. "Yes, sir. I just arrived, a few weeks ago. How did you know…?"

"I have an Italian sister in law." Larry took hold of Amelia's hand, adding to Octavius' theory that they were together. "I recognized the accent."

Octavius chuckled. "It carries."

"Oh, I know it does." Larry laughed. "Funny story; my in-law came to my election party for mayor a month ago. I was having her give a speech on the night I was sworn in, and-"

So he was the MAYOR. That made more sense. He was the spitting image of a man born to lead- perhaps a little off-set and nervous- but an authority figure all the same.

"You are the mayor, sir?" Octavius asked, just for clarification. If there was one thing he had learned, it was that you could never be too certain about who or what someone was.

Larry nodded, a proud smile gracing his lips. "That's right. And this, lovely lady here, is my fiance. Welcome to Dry Bone, Octavius. I hope you've been liking it so far."

"It has been...interesting, to say the least," Octavius admitted. "But not too bad."

Amelia smirked and leaned over to whisper in her fiance's ear. Larry grinned.

"That's a great idea. Octavius, have lunch with us."

Octavius paused. A lunch invitation? Was that...normal?

"Have...lunch with you?

Larry nodded, smiling. "Yes. Meet us in the back later this afternoon. We'd love to get to know you better."

Octavius considered the proposition. On the one hand, going to lunch with these new...acquaintances of his, would be a wonderful opportunity to make connections. Connections were good, right? He might also get the chance to ask questions about his new boss. On the other hand, however...was the fact that, although he came from a very social family, he lacked many of the required traits of the social elite. And the last thing he wanted to do was offend the mayor of the town he had just arrived in.

After a moment, he decided. He woukd go.

"I...would be more than honored to join you." Octavius declined his head.

"Great!" Amelia beamed in that way of hers, turning on her heels as she made her way behind the counter. "Now, how about one of those sweets you've been eyeing, eh?"


End file.
